Harry Potter 8
by Potterhead101
Summary: What happened after Deathly Hallows?


**Disclaimer: **Do I look like J.K. Rowling to you? I thought not.

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**~~Chapter One: Plans for the Future~~**

Harry Potter turned in his four-poster bed, stirring in his sleep. He had been having a particularly nice dream that included he, his girlfriend Ginny Weasley, and an Entrancing Enchantment, and wished to stay in his comfortable half-sleep for as long as possible, but the unpleasant sensation that he was being watched continued, and, from the result of spending nearly a year on the run, he knew he would have to open his eyes.

Sitting up in the comfortable Gryffindor Tower dormitory, he saw that their was a man watching him, but no man he had never seen before. The man had a close-trimmed, dark beard, and milky-white eyes. A badge pinned to his jet black robes and cloak identified him as...

"You're an Auror," said Harry dumbly, as though he was telling a young child an obvious fact about himself.

The Auror held out his calloused hand, and Harry tenatively took it, shaking it shortly.

"Octavius Ambone," he introduced himself as, and Harry nearly winced at the sound of his gruff, unpleasant voice; it reminded him of the time almost six years ago when he had attended a ghost's deathday party and heard the sound of thirty musical saws.

"Harry Potter," he muttered softly, sitting up, pulling the scarlet blankets up with him as he did; he was fully aware he was only wearing his underwear, and could feel his face going warm when he saw that Auror Ambone had noticed his robes lying in a crumbled heep in the corner.

Ambone sniffed disapprovingly. "I have been sent here to deliver your mail."

"My - my mail?" said Harry incredously, he found it nearly impossible to see this muscular, dark wizard as a mailman.

Ambone reached his hand into his cloak, and pulled out a parchment envelope, which he tossed onto Harry's blanket.

"It had to be checked with Dark detectors," continued the Auror, "A safety precaution, you understand. There are a lot of Death Eaters still out there that want you dead."

Not giving Harry time to reply, Ambone turned on his heel, and walked briskly out of the dormitory, slamming the door so hard that one of the Gryffindor tapestrys on the wall crumbled to the ground in a heap.

Deciding that he would put the hanging back up onto the stone wall later, he picked up the parchment mail, having almost forgotten the dry feeling that the paper gave his fingertips, having not recieved mail in months.

He took the letter, and saw that it was sealed with the Hogwarts crest. He dug one of his long, dirty fingernails that had not been trimmed for the longest time under the crease in the front, and tore it open. Another piece of parchment came out.

He grabbed his round glasses from the bedside table, and the dark blurs he had seen focused into letters on the page:

_Dear Mister Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that all students who were unable to attend their most recent year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be allowed to return in order to complete their schooling in all magical fields._

_Sincerly, _

_Filius Flitwick_

_Deputy Headmaster_

He silently put the tattered letter onto his bediside table and looked back down, noticing that there was a second letter he had not originally seen. This one was emblazoned with the crest of the Ministry of Magic.

Opening it much the same as he did the first, he recognized the handwriting as being the extremely neat, crooked scrawl of Kingsley Shacklebolt, a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

_Harry,_

_I just wanted to tell you that, should you wish for it, there will always be a place waiting for you at the Auror Department, whether or not you choose to go and complete your N.E.W.T.s I have decided, and the Wizengamot agrees, that all those who participated in the Battle of Hogwarts ought to be allowed to fight Dark Wizards for future years._

_Yours,_

_K. Shacklebolt, Acting Minister for Magic_

Finishing the letter excitedly, he looked around the room, noticing for the first time that he was alone in the dormitory. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he saw why.

"Five in the afternoon," he said, jumping up and pulling on his robes and trousers, he sprinted out of the dormitory, not even bothering to make his bed. Nearly tripping down the spiral staircase, he found that no one was in the squashy armchairs in front of the fire in the common room, and decided to head for the Great Hall, where he was hoping to see his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and, he hoped, Ginny.

He ran down the labrynthine system of hallways and chambers that was Hogwarts Castle, finding no one in any part of the school. It was not until, sweating, he found his way to the ground floor Entrance Hall, that the steady sound of people talking and shouting could be heard through the heavy oaken doors that lead into the Great Hall.

Grunting, he pushed his open palms against the double doors and heaved, grimacing at both their intense weight and the sliding noise they made acrosse the floor as they creaked open.

Inside he saw that, not only were the faculty, staff, and students there, but the families of each pupil were still keeping them company, and the room was so crowded that most students were standing and not sitting at one of the four House tables.

"Harry!" a voice yelled, and Harry turned to see Hermione sitting next to Ron at the Gryffindor table, and felt somewhat akward to see that they were holding hands; Ron's long, calloused hand was squeezing her soft, thin one.

At the sound of his name, silence took over the Hall, and every head turned to him and erupted into raucious cheering; even Draco Malfoy was giving a small smirk as he clapped his hands slowly before looking around, as though it would be a matter of deepest shame if anyone saw him. Harry didn't see the point; Draco was attracting sniggers with his mother, Narcissa, picking at his hair and wiping his face.

Not wanting to be the center of attention longer than necessary, he hurried toward the Gryffindor table at the far right of the room, plopping himself down on the well-sanded bench next to Ron, who beamed weakly at him; the memory of his brother Fred's death was clearly still haunting him, and their were dark circles under his pale eyes.

"Hey, mate." muttered Ron weakly, "You going to come to The Burrow with me?"

Harry loaded some of the food piled high on the table onto his golden plate; it seemed they were having an all-day feast. Pulling a bowl of porridge closer to him he nodded. He had no idea what he was going to do with his future, but he knew that, whatever it was, he wanted to do it in with the Weasleys.

"I'm coming with you, too, of course," said Hermione matter-of-factly, taking a bite of her peach cobbler, "Until September the first, and then we can come back to Hogwarts together."

Ron and Harry exchanged guilty looks. Ron still had a piece of egg dangling from his freckled mouth.

"Uh," he said, swallowing the scrambled egg, "About that, 'Mione. I'm, er, not coming back."

Hermione looked as though she was about to choke on her food, as she looked up to them, her brown eyes looking shocked, and when she spoke again she was suddenly stern.

"But, Ronald, what about your N.E.W.T.s? Those are very important! I thought you wanted to be an Auror. You have to get five --"

"I'm not going either, Hermione." said Harry, looking back down, suddenly very interested in his bacon. He though it best to break it to her before she got into a rant.

Hermione dropped her fork of precious metal onto the floor with a clatter, and decided not to pick it up, but rather to stare at Harry like he had just expressed desire to follow in Voldemort's footsteps.

"Harry, you want to be an Auror too though!" Hermione yelled, her bushy hair seeming to crackle with a static electricity in her surprise.

"Kingsley wrote me a letter," said Harry calmly, looking away, "he said I can join the Department anyway. But I'm not going to; not now at least."

Hermione looked very disapproving, as though she thought it was improper for a politician to encourage students not to graduate.

"I might be an Auror someday," said Ron, trying to ease her, "But right now I want to have some fun. I though about coming back to just mess around for a year, but I decided that George might need me at the shop."

Harry knew that Ron's brothers, twins Fred and George Weasley had owned a joke store in Diagon Alley called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and knew that Ron was right: after the death of his brother, George would be needing some help, and if anyone wanted to have fun, being at WWW was the best possible choice.

"Well," huffed Hermione, "I _will_ return. I'm thinking of getting a job in magical law enforcement. What do you intend to do, Harry, until you become an Auror?"

Harry looked up at the staff table, Professor McGonagall was sitting in the seat that Harry had usualyl seen taken by Albus Dumbledore. He looked back at Hermione. "Well, I have a life to take care of, my godson, Teddy."

Hermione's eyes swelled with respect for her friend, but she still looked upset, "I can't believe I'll be alone at Hogwarts for a year. It won't be the same without you!"

"Relax." said Harry, smiling, "We still have a few months together."

Ron beamed. "Then we'll make them a few good months."


End file.
